I don’t know what goes into your definition of a good weekend, but for me it often includes a long, lovely, indulgent nap.

I’m particularly fond of dozing on the couch, in the sun while my husband watches something on television. Something in which I have absolutely no interest. I let it become white noise to lull me to la-la-land.


When we went to the pasture on Sunday to feed the Golden Girls, we found them doing their own version of going to la-la-land. Chickadee was awake enough to hear us coming.

Pepper was not.

She was out as the proverbial light.

Then came the hard part.

The getting up part.

The getting up on legs that are stiff and don’t want to move.

First it was a hobble. Then a limp. Finally the old girls walked the stiffness out and made their way to lunch.


Wondering if I’m describing myself or the horses? These days it could be all of us.

P.S. Thinking of Bud yesterday on what would have been his 31st birthday.